


Rehearsals

by Ryumaru



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 19:04:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20345170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryumaru/pseuds/Ryumaru
Summary: Vergil has to adjust to life after his escapade with Qliphoth. If a picture is worth a thousand words, how much can a violin say?





	Rehearsals

The week after Dante and Vergil returned, the shop stopped being so quiet. 

What was once a dreary nightly period of stifling silence - pierced only by the sounds of whatever show or music Nero put on to fill the air - became a slight rhythm of activity. Dante lounged in front of the TV, cleaning his guns or doing some other small, routine task. News reports and late-night food tv would flicker, while little mechanical clicks and rattles would indicate what work he was doing. 

Vergil, however, chose to isolate himself for that first week, keeping to a room apart and reading or practicing with Yamato. Step-step-hiss of steel-step-hiss-step would be the sound of it; a perfectly timed cadence capped only by the click of the blade returning to its sheath. 

It was only two weeks afterwards that Nero began to hear a different sound.

It started low, and soft, like the buzzing of an insect in a distant part of the building. But he heard it, and looked up from the desk where he had been going over an old case file. He tilted his head, straining to catch the sound. Dante seemed to pick up on it as well, and lowered the volume on the TV. 

Light, airy, but strong, the notes of a violin thrummed through the shopfront. Staccato notes gave way to long arpeggios and climbing scales, like the slopes of a hilly hunting ground. Nero could scarcely imagine how fast the player's fingers would have to move, much less the speed of the bow as the violin began to loose music in a rushing stream. 

When it was over, there was a moment of silence, and then it began again.

"Caprice," said Dante, without looking at Nero. 

"Caprice…." Nero repeated, feeling out the word and letting it settle on his tongue. A sprightly term, but fitting for the piece nonetheless.

The next week was a new piece. Rather than dance and laugh, reveling in its own movement, the violin cried out and sobbed. It wailed a high note, before descending into a litany of notes that begged for one more chance. One more moment, one more breath. Nero had never heard the song before, but he could tell that it was but one half of an argument, a solo plucked out from a symphony that would tell a tale as grand and sweeping as the epics of old. Where "Caprice" had been quick, this was slow, permeating the surroundings with its tale. 

Dante let out a bemused "huh," as the piece came to a close. Nero shot him a questioning look.

"Scheherezade," Dante explained. "Didn't think he'd go for it."

"What, you dared him to or something?"

"Heh. Nah," Dante answered. "Just thought he didn't like it."

The next week, Nero recognized the tune. Frenetic, spiralling, an ever-faster duel of sound and the violinist's skill. So quickly did the notes come that another listener might fear for the instrument, thinking it would surely catch fire. But it played on, alternating between strokes as quick as swordplay and plucked notes like raindrops in a storm. 

Nero couldn't help but chuckle as the piece was finished. "Flight of the goddamn Bumblebee," he said, only half believing it. 

"Flight of the goddamn Bumblebee," echoed Dante, a smile on his face. 

Other pieces play on other weeks. Once, when Kyrie came to visit, she was treated to a performance of one of Bach's solo concertos. She brought a few pages of sheet music with her the next time she came, and Nero tactfully left them just lying out on the desk. When they were gone the next night, he smiled.

Vergil doesn't say much to either his brother or his son. But if he could be said to speak with his sword, then his violin was just as eloquent.


End file.
